Truly, Madly, Deeply FraserKowalski Slash
by Ximeria
Summary: After a case has gone wrong, Ray's trying to make a new life on his own. Without Fraser.


NOTES II: Supportive cast -- This is not your ordinary Jack and Daniel (Stargate), but an AU version that I created more than two years ago. I was torn between using original characters or these two, but the muses are pushy and move in a mysterious ways g -- do you have to read the AU? No. That's not necessary. If you want to, it's called protected and can be found here:

http/www.ximeria. while there's more sex in Protected than you can shake a stick at, this one's got absolutely no sex

* * *

The heady experience of being pinned down, possessed, nearly drove him out of his mind. The growl in his ear and the thrusts into his body, pushed him to the edge and the complete white-out of his climax painted the world colorless.

Ray woke up with a gasp. Blinking myopically at the bedside clock, he sighed and fell back on the bed. 6AM... Rubbing his eyes, he decided it was way to fucking early to get out of bed.

Job interview. The thought hit him. Oh, how he'd prefer to simply stay where he was with the blankets pulled over his head. Unfortunately he couldn't. He owed Welsh to give this a go.

'You're ripe for the nut house,' Ray told himself. 'You should see this as a chance to make a fresh start.' He needed it, needed the leg up from the downward spiral he'd gotten himself caught in. To think he'd had it all. Friends, a fabulous partner... a job he could finally admit to enjoy. Then, through one stupid case, it had all gone to hell.

"I can't even hate you," Ray said to the ghosts of memories in the room. The loss hit him again and Ray knew he might as well get up and go the gym. If he stayed in his bed, he'd just be trapped by his depressing thoughts.

__

"I've got this friend..." Welsh said, giving Ray a speculative look.

"Yeah?" Ray said, trying not to sound as dead on his feet as he was.

"Yeah, old friend of the family. He's looking for a good, hardworking guy with his head on right."

"Oh? Lieu... I don't..." Ray shook his head. He didn't want anyone trying to steer him right. It wasn't worth it.

"Hey, talk to the man. He's got a company specializing in security. He's a good guy."

__

As he showered after three hours in the gym, Ray went over what he'd need to remember for the interview. Stick to the truth, don't oversell yourself and don't do the opposite either. Welsh had said that the guy was ex-military and **sharp**.

'Get a grip, Kowalski.' He needed this, needed something apart from his fucked up life to concentrate on. Well, what was left of it anyway. No partner, no job to speak of, and the return of his ex-wife and her new husband... no, coupled with his parents returning to Arizona, Ray really didn't like the air in Chicago too much at the moment. Anything would be better than sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

* * *

"Kowalski?"

Ray looked up to find a tall man staring intently at him. The guy was at least six feet tall and fairly well-built under those casual threads. Dark-grey slacks, a white t-shirt and a dark-grey suit jacket. Not a bad look for him. The graying hair said something about his age, but the shine to the brown eyes and the quirky smile to the thin lips did a lot to counter those years.

"Yeah?" Ray stood up from the chair he'd been sitting on for the past ten minutes, waiting for his interview.

"O'Neill," the guy said, holding out a hand for a quick handshake. Firm handshake -- perfectly balanced between 'I'm an alpha' and 'I'm not a threat to you'. "You have lunch yet?"

Ray blinked a couple of times, but his stomach was faster than he was, growling at the idea of food. He hadn't been feeling like eating earlier, so the only thing he'd downed, was a couple of cups of coffee.

O'Neill laughed warmly. "I guess that says it all. There's a little diner around the corner. You game?"

Ray rubbed a hand over his hair, trying to catch up. "I, eh... sure."

"Great, I just got here from the airport and haven't eaten since this morning." O'Neill gestured toward the door out. "Daniel would kill me if he found out," O'Neill muttered as he herded Ray out the door.

Ray frowned but figured he might as well go with the flow.

Before he knew it, he was seated across the table from the man who might, or might not, be his future employer. Ray wasn't sure what to think, but he kind of liked the guy's straight-forward attitude.

"So, Welsh tell you what I'm looking for?" O'Neill asked after he'd ordered steak and baked potatoes.

Ray had ordered a sandwich. He was way too wired to eat a full meal. Shaking his head, he sat back on the chair. "Nope, the Lieutenant just said you had a security company."

O'Neill nodded. "Yeah, I originally ran it from the office we just left, but a couple of years ago I ended up with an SO, so now I live in New York and run a second office from there. We mostly do security work, body guards, security consulting for both companies and private clients."

"I'm still not sure I know what you want with me," Ray admitted.

O'Neill grinned and waved his hand back and forth. "I mostly hire people with either law-enforcement backgrounds, or military. I've rarely hired anyone without either knowing them or knowing someone who did. I hear you're a good cop, good intuition, if a little on the wild side." The last was added with an amused lift of a scarred eyebrow.

Ray shrugged. "That's a nice way of putting it," he muttered.

"You're not suicidal, are you?" O'Neill asked frankly.

Ray pursed his lips. "No." 'Not yet,' he added in thought.

"You know your way around a gun, you know how to work a case. I need that. We've been having the occasional request for finding 'lost' people, more detective work than actual security. I don't want to say no to clients with problems. But most of my employees are ex-soldiers of some kind, and although they're all intelligent people, we need something extra."

Ray nodded slowly. "Welsh tell you I'm a basket case?" he asked, a little shocked that it had slipped out.

Smiling, O'Neill cocked his head to the side. "He said a great many things about you, Kowalski."

"He tell you I went North, came home, screwed up my life and that he's had to drag me out of a few stupid situations since then?" Ray wondered why the fuck he felt like being this honest at the moment.

O'Neill eyed him silently for a long time, didn't even break eye contact when the waitress put their plates in front of them. The silence felt oppressive to Ray, who tried not to fidget.

"You're blunt," O'Neill finally said, his expression unreadable. "Welsh said you had a case blow up in your face, you had a 'difference of opinion' with your partner and from there, he's been worried about you."

"Like I said," Ray snorted, eyeing his sandwich with doubt. Suddenly he wasn't all that hungry. "I'm a basket case."

"Well, I must admit I've already got someone in mind for the job here in Chicago," O'Neill admitted softly.

Ray nodded. Wasn't as if he'd stood any kind of chance the moment his sudden burst of honesty had run him over.

"How does New York sound to you, Kowalski?"

Ray blinked rapidly, finally looking up at the man again, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

"You got a problem breaking camp and moving to the Big Apple?" O'Neill's smile was back, at least in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, Ray shrugged. "I haven't got anything left to keep me in Chicago," he admitted.

"Need a nice, clean start?"

"Why are you doing this?" Ray finally asked.

"Because if you're as good as Welsh says ye are, I think I'm willing to take a little risk." O'Neill said. "I need someone like you who can communicate with the local law, so that we won't step on some precinct's toes. I get the feeling you'd rather not do that here in Chicago...?"

Ray shrugged. "Most don't know me anyway, to the rest..."

"You've got a reputation," O'Neill said with a soft smile. "Besides, I hear you're good with a gun."

Ray snorted. "Only when I'm wearing my glasses," he admitted.

"You're gonna have to wear 'em full time," O'Neill warned. "Or get contacts. I want my people tip-top."

"Can't wear contacts," Ray said, wondering what kind of surreal talk this was. It was a damned roller-coaster ride.

O'Neill merely nodded. "Get a new prescription to be on the safe side, when we get to New York."

Ray held up his hands, trying to stop the steam-roller across the table. "Whoa... Are you hiring me?"

"Yeah. Isn't that obvious?" O'Neill's grin turned downright teasing then sobered a little. "That is, if you think you're up to it?"

"I...," Ray cleared his throat. "I don't know what to say," he admitted sheepishly. Nothing he'd thought about before the interview seemed relevant. Leave Chicago? No problem, though... "Well, there is the fact that I'll have to find somewhere to live in New York," he admitted.

"Finish up whatever you need to here. The building we use for offices has quite a few apartments that are leased mainly to employees," O'Neill told him.

"Is this for real?" Ray asked, shaking his head. This was unbelievable. He kept expecting for the other shoe to drop.

"Well, there is one last thing," O'Neill said, finishing off his steak. "How do you feel about gays?"

"Wha'?" What the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'No problem, sir. I'd be a bigot to condemn gays, considering...'

"Just tell me the first thought that comes to mind," O'Neill said intently.

"I don't have any problems with homosexuals," Ray said, keeping his voice steady. Keeping the memories locked down, the flashes of memories at least. A jumble of tattered images, sounds, tastes...

"Good..."

"Mind if I ask **why** you would ask me such a question?"

O'Neill grinned widely. "Because your future boss is one and you being from a society that isn't exactly known for embracing this 'different lifestyle', I had to ask."

Ray shook his head, feeling a little confused. Well, it explained the comment about the SO and probably the one about 'Daniel' as well. "No... no problem," he said softly.

O'Neill eyed him speculatively, then nodded. "Good, now eat your sandwich -- you can't function on coffee alone."

Ray smiled softly. "I know... you're not the first one to point that out."

"Eat up, kid," O'Neill said as he pushed his plate aside. "I've got some errands to do while I'm in Chicago. I want you to think about my offer, then call me." A business card was pushed across the table. "I meant what I said, I could use a man like you in the fold."

Ray nodded, although, deep down, he already knew his answer.

O'Neill nodded and stood, for a moment resting a warm hand on Ray's shoulder. A light squeeze and he let go, pulling out some bills from his pocket, laying them down on the table.

Ray sat back, alone, in the diner, staring at his sandwich. He'd just been offered a job, a ticket out of Chicago, away from faces and places that did nothing but remind him of how royally he'd screwed up.

Either this was a miracle, or eventually something else would happen to blow down his house of cards, because someone up there had a horrible sense of humor.

A way out... Ray looked at the sandwich again, feeling his stomach finally settle enough for him to eat. He'd take it, he had a feeling... a hunch... that this was exactly what he needed.

* * *


End file.
